Spice
by Redlance-ck
Summary: Sam has read a lot, but apparently, not enough. Sam/Brooke


**Disclaimer: **Characters belong to Ryan Murphy, I'm just borrowing them so they can do my bidding for a while.

**A/N:** Number 5 (I think) in my 'Catch up Fic Quest'! It's was sometime after 2am when I wrote most of this (back in 08, haha), but I think most of it makes sense. ;)

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* * *

**When she and Brooke were intimate, it was like watching fireworks from right beneath their detonation point. It was explosive, loud, vision became clouded with colours she was unaware existed, and all with a sense of feeling slightly detached. Like she wasn't completely there. Like she was an observer, but not in a creepy way. Like she and Brooke were the only two people left in the entire world and they'd decided to celebrate with fireworks, so they were watching but experiencing at the same time. Involving themselves by lighting the fuses.

It was weird and wonderful and completely unlike anything she'd ever experienced before, obviously, or read about in her entire 'sexually awake' history.

And she'd done a lot of reading.

It was what Sam did. She researched things. She delved into every aspect of a topic, came at it from all sides so as to best discern what things to take away from her studying and apply to her life. She took it very seriously.

Yet apparently, had not read enough.

* * *

There were few things Sam McPherson enjoyed more than making out with Brooke McQueen. There were fewer things still she enjoyed more than making out with said Brooke on her very plush, soft and silky bed. And as for making out with Brooke McQueen on her very plush, soft and silky bed while they were both half naked…. Well. There definitely wasn't much that topped that on her list of 'Top 10 Most Enjoyable Pastimes', making love aside, of course.

Which is why, currently, she was throwing herself into the task.

Brooke's skin was hot as it pressed and slid into and against her own. They were sitting, Sam crossed legged, the blonde straddling her lap and hovering over her. Her neck hurt from leaning up, but she didn't care. Brooke, bare legs exposed but with an oversized baggy sweater hanging off one shoulder covering most of her upper body, tilted her head downwards, hair curtaining Sam's face, melding their lips together. They broke apart only for mere seconds when oxygen became an issue, otherwise their tongues duelled in sync with the tempo of the kiss. Sometimes fighting like gladiators in a lions den, others times like hands caressing a new love's skin for the first time. Tentative, loving, full of need and underlying want. Whatever the rhythm, breath was stolen, hearts were nearly shattered by the force of their beating, and a seemingly unstoppable fire roared over the plains of their skin.

An intangible mewling sound gurgled in Sam's throat as Brooke rested slightly unsteady hands on the reporter's shoulders and gently pushed, putting an end to their kiss. If Sam had been at all coherent at that point, she may have been distressed to find herself capable of making such a noise. However, coherent was something she most definitely was not. In fact, it took her a solid 15 seconds to even open her eyes. Even longer to focus.

She blinked, many times, a frown line appearing between her brows until finally, a dark outline of Brooke became visible in the dim room. With the passing seconds, she could see more of her, prompting her brain to kick out a thought about Brooke being more beautiful every time Sam laid eyes on her. The brunette said nothing, just sighed, and saw her girlfriend's mouth twitch and the corner of her eyes crinkle in a smile.

"Sorry." Brooke whispered into the dark. "Need to catch my breath." Sam's chest vibrated with a chuckle, but she still remained silent. She was very aware of the fact that she couldn't feel her lips and was wondering how Brooke was managing to articulate so well. "Are you okay?" A nod was the only response she got. Sam had closed her eyes again. "Sam?" Brooke asked after another moment, unsure. Instantly, she felt arms wrap around her, holding her close and tight, a chin nestling in the crook where her neck and shoulder met.

"Recovering." An honest answer that Brooke readily accepted, her smile widening unseen. But, somehow, not unheard. Sam wanted to tell her to not look so pleased with herself, but couldn't yet muster the effort that would be needed to voice so many words.

It was odd, so TV, magazines and her friends and come to tell her. She and Brooke had been in a relationship for a while now, yet they still acted as though they were in their first few weeks of dating. Like everything was still new, fresh. Tingly. Sam had, on occasions when it had been possible for her to retain a thought, wondered if they would ever evolve into a state of relationship other than the one they were in now. She hoped not.

They stayed like that for a small eternity. Still. Sam holding Brooke close to her, breathing her in, and Brooke, bent legs resting on either side of Sam's folded ones, with her arms practically hugging the dark head in front of her, her chin resting atop it. No sounds, only their breathing.

"I think you broke my lips." Sam deadpanned, shattering the stillness and causing repeated giggles of amusement to shake Brooke's lithe frame.

"Takes two." She informed Sam, tilting her head so that their temples touched and she could breath into her ear. "Don't complain as if you aren't enjoying every second as much as I am." Warmth shuddered through Sam.

"Wasn't complaining." She sighed, happy. "Was just stating a fact."

"You seem to be talking fine now." Brooke pointed out, smiling and moving a hand to run fingers through Sam's hair, pulling her head back so she could look down at her. Eyes adjusted, she was clearer now. Brooke could see her face, her dreamy grin, eyes that closed as her fingers worked through dark tresses again and again. Sam's own hands found their way beneath Brooke's oversized sweater and began blindly stroking the skin she found there.

"That's why I said 'think'."

"Which technically would mean that you couldn't have been stating fact, if you only 'thought' it to be true." Sam chuckled and shook her head.

"Too many words, not enough blood flowing to my brain." She protested and Brooke quirked an amused eyebrow.

"Why Miss McPherson…." Brooke's hands untangled themselves from Sam's hair and slid down, slowly, along her neck, over her shoulders and down over the brunette's shirtless chest. Sam's lips parted and she sucked in a lung full of air. "If not to the brain, then to where is it flowing?"

"Brooke…." Sam breathed, closing her eyes and letting her head loll backwards as the blonde's hands began to move, softly stroking, gently kneading.

"Sam…?" Brooke responded playfully, drawing the word out. "Lie down." She told her eventually and Sam instantly complied, laying back so her head rested against pillows and Brooke straddled her hips.

It was apparent to Brooke that she would never tire of touching Sam. Would never feel like she didn't want to run her fingers over some part of her. She still sometimes felt as though she would die if she couldn't. And so she did it now, torturously dragging her fingertips across every inch of Sam's exposed upper body. Dark eyes blinked open and Sam absently ran her own fingers through her hair, watching Brooke watch the fingers she was trailing over her. Like she was mesmerised by their movements.

Their gazes met.

"Close your eyes." Brooke requested in a whisper. Sam felt her body humming as she did as she was told and felt Brooke move, pressing their bodies together, sliding her hands up along Sam's arms, stretching them out towards the headboard of Brooke's bed. She sighed deeply, contentedly. She felt alive, almost like she could physically feel the blood flowing through her.

She could also feel something being wrapped around her wrist. Her eyes snapped open to find Brooke leaning over her, wrapping something around her other wrist. She then sat back on her haunches and chewed on a smiling lip, eyes bright and shining with what Sam would soon discover was mischief. Sam frowned and, still somewhat disjointed, tried to sit up.

Only to find that she couldn't.

She tilted her head upwards and, sure enough, her arms had been secured in their position above her head by what appeared to be strips of silk.

"Brooke, what the hell?" Sam asked, her voice louder than before, an air of peevishness slipping into it as images of her girlfriend leaving her stranded flooded her mind. She struggled against the bonds, trying to wriggle free.

"Calm down." Brooke scooted up until Sam could feel her bare thighs resting against her sides and then leaned down, resting her hands on the brunette's arms, stilling them again. Sam stared at her, obviously confused. "I just wanted to try spicing things up a little." The confusion melted away and now Sam just looked affronted. Her glare softened and a pout set itself firmly in place.

"You think the spice is lacking?" She sounded a little panicked.

"What?" Brooke frowned, her turn to be confused. Her eyes suddenly widened in realisation and she held a hand in front of her mouth, a little horrified by Sam's suggestion. "No! Sammie, no."

"You just said-"

"I didn't mean it like that." Brooke tried to reassure her, placing her hands palm down on Sam's flat stomach. "I just wanted to try something…. Different." Before, Brooke had been totally confidant about this, but now, seeing Sam's reaction, the nerves had reared their head. What if she'd done the wrong thing? What if Sam wasn't as open about stuff as she'd thought?

"Did it get…" Sam's voice dropped to a whisper and her next words made Brooke's stomach lurch painfully. "Boring?" But despite the lurching, the ex-cheerleader had to laugh. That Sam could think she'd become boring to Brooke was simply absurd.

"Sam." Her voice was husky now, the name almost a purr as she lowered her body back down and kissed along the length of Sam's neck. "Believe me when I say that being with you could never, ever be boring."

"Then what's with the silk scarf routine?" It was noted with some amusement that Sam struggled a little to get the words out, Brooke ministrations proving to almost be too much of a distraction.

"I would never have done this with Josh." Sam's entire body stiffened at the words. Brooke could feel her neck muscles tighten against her lips. She sighed, inwardly berating Sam for always jumping to the wrong conclusion. She knew that Sam thought she meant that she would never have **needed** to do this with Josh. "I mean I would never have been brave enough." She gently corrected herself. "I would never have been comfortable enough to even suggest doing anything like this with him." Brooke shifted to rest on her haunches once more and stared down at Sam.

"Sorry." The brunette offered her a weak smile. "Auto pilot response." Brooke didn't smile back.

"Why do you do that?"

"What?"

"Warp your brain into thinking you aren't anything special. That's why you thought the worst when I said the Josh thing, because for that second you didn't think I could have possibly meant anything else." Sam dropped her gaze away from the hazel eyes boring into her.

"Brooke-"

"I'm not finished." Brooke cut her off, gently. Then she reached out and turned Sam's angled face back towards her. "Don't interrupt me. I have more scarves and you have a big enough mouth to accommodate a few." Sam raised her eyebrows and smirked, but said nothing. "You…" Brooke began again, taking Sam's face in her hands and forcing their eyes to meet. The few seconds were intense and a world of unspoken words passed between them. "Are an idiot." The intensity dissolved as they both broke into giggles.

"You're a jackass!" Sam laughed, and Brooke loved it when she smiled. Even if the brunette was trying to buck her off the bed while she was doing it.

"I'm serious." Was the sincere, said through giggles, response.

"Great, I'm an idiot. Now can you get off me?" Sam jabbed her in the ribs and Brooke squeaked, but didn't move.

"You're a really incredible person Sam, and I wish you could see that." Dark eyebrows shot to a dark hairline.

"Oh, hey, if you hold on two seconds, I can get the kettle on the phone." Sam said and then made the universal symbol for 'telephone' with her pinkie finger and thumb, tilting her head as close to her bound hand as she could get it. After a moment, she offered it to Brooke, who rolled her eyes, and then informed her, "It's for you.". Brooke batted at Sam's hand until it fell back and hung limply in its bindings.

"This isn't about me." Sam made a 'sorry, I can't do anything about it' face and shrugged a little.

"Now it is." She settled a stern but sad gaze on her girlfriend. "Why do **you** do it?" Brooke, balancing herself first, folded her arms across her chest.

"I asked you first." Brown eyes rolled.

"I asked you second." She shot back the age old reply with, apparently well practised, ease. Still, she knew Brooke wasn't about to budge on this. Unless she answered first. "I think it's the auto pilot thing again. I'm used to comparing myself to you." Sam reminded her, no ill feelings in her voice. Just stating another fact. "I'm not exactly close to standing a chance."

"Please, Sam, you blow me out of the water." The brunette shook her head, laughing at Brooke's stubbornness. They'd had this conversation before.

"Brooke, we've been over this. If I had that capability, **I'd** have been the most popular girl at Kennedy and people would have gladly fallen at **my** feet so I could use them as a living red carpet."

"That only happened once. And I didn't even mean to walk over them, Nicole had my arm in a vice grip." Brooke made a face at the memory, then seemed to remember what they were really talking about. "It's not your fault they were too blind to really see you. How stunning you are." Compliments at the best of times were hard for Sam to swallow. And she'd been truthful when she'd said it had something to do with Brooke. A lot of it. Having that constant comparison every day, when even your best friend was doing it, sucked. It took its toll on a girl. She'd never let Brooke know how much though. Plus, it was different now. Having the girl everyone compared everyone else to choose **you **was definitely a self esteem boost.

"I'm glad you think so." And she was, even if she'd never really, one hundred percent believe it.

"There you go, confusing fact with theory again." Brooke chided playfully, and then leaned down to place a chaste kiss against Sam's lips. "I **know** so." Another quick kiss and then she sat up straight, grinning and running her hands down over Sam's chest again. "Now stop arguing with me, or I might never let you out of these." She reached up and touched the silk at the brunette's left wrist, glancing down only to find Sam smirking.

"Oh, I don't know..." Experimentally, Sam tugged at her bindings. "I think I'm starting to like it." Brooke arched an eyebrow, felt a thrill run through her.

"Is that so?" Sam 'hmm'ed her affirmation, eyelids becoming lazy as Brooke swept down to brush their noses together, reaching up and running her hands from the brunette's bound wrists to her shoulders. She rested them there and, biting her lip to suppress a grin, suddenly rolled her hips down against Sam's. The reporter groaned low in her throat and Brooke saw her eyelids flutter, watched her eyes roll back into her head, and couldn't contain the smirk any longer as she pressed her cheek to Sam's and brushed her lips against her ear. "Let's see if they can hold you."


End file.
